Under the Shade of the Laurel Tree
by TheYmp
Summary: Under the shade of the laurels lining the river, Daphne pulls someone from the water and prepares him for the journey that is yet to come. Set during 7.17 The Born-Again Identity, there are minor spoilers and I've taken liberties with some of the events.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.**

**Under the shade of the laurels lining the river, Daphne pulls someone from the water and prepares him for the journey that is yet to come. Set during 7.17 The Born-Again Identity, there are minor spoilers and I've taken liberties with some of the events.**

~#~

**Under the Shade of the Laurel Tree**

Daphne was already standing there, waiting in the cool shade of a laurel tree, when he floated up to the surface of the river.

As he had floundered in the depths of the water, he'd thought he could sense her presence on the riverbank. She looked at him with a quiet calm and he had the distinct impression that she had been patiently anticipating his arrival for a very long time. There was just something otherworldly and timelessness about her. Somehow, she seemed both of, and beyond, this current place and time. In many ways she gave the appearance of being even more grounded than the large, ancient laurels that lined the riverbank.

She was strong and sure and determined, but with a humility that belied a hidden strength. As if to prove this, she moved with a feline grace as she pulled him from the water and wrapped a travel blanket around him.

He gazed into her almost-familiar, deep green eyes and felt a distant pull of recognition.

"Who are you?" he asked with a sense of wonder.

"I am your wife," she answered. Such simple words, yet they carried the same weight of import and certainty as any great proclamation. He took a moment to digest this. Something didn't seem quite right, yet he still felt that he could trust her.

He frowned at a sudden, intruding thought. "Who am I?"

"You are Emmanuel. Your coming was foretold." She smiled, and it was both brighter and more beautiful than the sparkle of the sun on the surface of the river behind him.

~#~

He lay beside her on her bed. On _their_ bed. They were both flat on their backs and staring at the ceiling and, in an idle, uncomfortable thought, he wondered if he should reach out to her. He felt a strong, strange need for the comfort of giving comfort.

"Goodnight, Emmanuel." It was a tone of affection, but again there was that impression of hidden, guarded strength.

In that instant his eyes closed and he was asleep as if by the flick of a switch.

~#~

He had looked everywhere, searching the still unfamiliar house from top to bottom, but he could find no sign of his wife. "Daphne?"

There was a strange, fluttering sound and he realized she was standing right behind him. "I couldn't find you," he complained, feeling flustered and vulnerable.

"I'll always be here for you, Emmanuel. For as long as you need me," she smiled.

~#~

There was knock at the front door; Daphne motioned for him to wait and went to answer it. He could see beyond her to the waiting stranger with an even stranger grin.

"I've been expecting you," she said, with just the hint of a satisfied smile as the man's eyes turned black.

~#~

A man saved them. A strange, savage man that stared at him with hungry eyes that held so many strong, conflicting emotions. Green eyes that looked so familiar...

There was deep seated anger in the man, kept well stoked so that it burned bright, but it was tinged with concern and maybe even love. But most of all there was a sick desperation and a hope that was too scared to even dare express itself.

Emmanuel knew that no matter what, he had to help the man.

He looked to his wife, but she seemed unperturbed by her imprisonment and accepting of the existence of demons. When she laid a hand on his chest it was not to seek comfort, but to offer it to him in his confusion.

She guided him to the door. "Goodbye, Emmanuel," she said.

He looked at her, his head cocking to one side, curious at her tone.

"It has been an honor to be your wife," she said, her voice soft, but firm. With just a slight hint of a blush, she pressed a gentle, chaste kiss on his cheek.

He reached up to lay his hand over the site of the kiss as he realized it was the first physical sign of affection they'd shared. He nodded to her, somehow knowing that this was the end of a brief chapter of his life, and that it would be the last time he would ever see her again.

A small part of him would miss her and the comfort she had brought. Then he looked at the man sitting impatiently in the car and he knew that there was something waiting for him, something both terrible and wonderful. Something for which she had been preparing him.

Leaving her seemed okay, and he somehow knew that it was okay for her too.

"Don't look back," she whispered in his ear.

He walked to the car and heard her shut the door of the house behind him.

(;,;)


End file.
